by Manda McNay
I break the kiss and circle around the bed, kicking discarded clothes out of my way. I like to watch Matt’s face as Rich fucks him: occasional winces of pain and intense gasps of pleasure. He’s rock hard, his cock bouncing with Rich’s movements inside him. It is, in a word, hot.
I climb up onto the bed and spread my legs for my fiance. He goes to town, licking and suckling my swollen clit, pushing his tongue up between my lips. His face disappears in my cunt. His body rocks with the movement of their fucking. Rich and I watch each other as he fucks the man who’s eating me.
Matt’s moaning against my pussy, his lips vibrating against me.
He comes suddenly, his hot juice spattering on my leg.
Rich is still going strong. He always was such a good lay.
Matt pulls away from him and flops to his stomach, panting hard. I untangle myself from him and open my legs to Rich.
“Come here,” I say, suddenly the tiniest bit shy.
Rich comes toward me on his knees, kissing my upper thigh, kissing my belly, nibbling tentatively at my nipple before we’re face to face. He’s propped up on his arms above me. I can feel the tip of his cock brush me as he breathes.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Hi,” he says.
I reach down and guide him into me.
He gasps at my wetness. He takes no time at all to start pounding, giving it to me hard, making up for his carefulness with Matt. I’ve missed this cock, and the way he knows just where to drive it inside me. We’re fucking face to face, his breath hot against my mouth, tiny beads of sweat forming along his hairline. I run my nails down his back, the way I know he likes, and he grunts and fucks me harder.
Faster.
“I missed this pussy. Fuck, I missed you.”
I just nod and raise my hips to meet him.
Matt’s recovered beside us, and he steps down off the bed again.
He comes up behind my head.
The two men work in tandem to shift me, the rhythm of our fucking never changing.
Then my fiance gently lowers my head back over the side of the bed, and puts his cock to my lips.
This is it! This is the fantasy! I’ve always wanted two cocks at once, and my cunt quivers at the fact that it’s finally happening.
I take Matt into my mouth, and from this angle he slides in neatly. I can’t move my head very well, but it doesn’t matter; he begins to pump between my lips. I feel Rich shift forward, and the two of them kiss. They kiss, with their dicks both grinding inside me.
I’m on fire.
I’ve never known sex like this. I never thought it would be this hot. This good.
It’s like the two of them are fucking each other again; I’m just the conduit in the middle. I’m being pummelled mercilessly from both ends, both cocks hungry for my body, my body trying to take both of them in further, further.
More.
Rich’s rhythm is changing, and I know he’s close.
Matt starts to tense.
They grow frantic, each pushing inside me deeper, and I’m pinned there between them.
I hear Matt, then, his voice husky with lust, as he breaks their kiss and says a single word:
“Come.”
That permission is all Rich needs, and he stiffens between my legs, and Matt stops moving in my mouth, and everything is still for a moment. Then I feel the shudders of both men, Matt flooding my throat with his cum, Rich going rigid against me, his hot splashes coating me inside.
I swallow.
They pull out of me.
Rich leans down and kisses me, tenderly, for the last time. I kiss him back, knowing this is it. Tomorrow he goes back to being Matt’s friend, and our best man. He will never be my lover again.
Good thing the sex was so good.
Matt hangs back a minute as I sit up and hug Rich, my breasts against his bare chest. We hold each other for a moment, and when we let go it feels like more than just a physical parting.
Then Matt pulls the blankets back for me, helping me to snuggle down under the covers. He kisses me once on the lips. Then he and Rich gather their things and dress. They’re both grinning ear to ear.
And I know that in the morning, when I finally get to say “I do”, it’ll be to a future where curiosities are resolved, needs have been met, and my new husband and I can settle down together.
*
Back to Top
*
My Brother’s Lover
It was a tight fit at the table, with my parents, myself, my sisters, my brother and his lover.
Mom had insisted we all get together for dinner back at their place. The house seemed a lot smaller now that we were all grown. “You’ll be in town anyway, for the commitment ceremony. It’s bad enough you kids all want to stay in hotels; I’m not going to make you spend all your money on food, too.”
She didn’t need to worry: all of us kids had done just fine. Both my sisters ended up in accounting, boring but it paid the bills and paid them well. I became a teacher, which made more impact on my soul than my bank account. My brother, Lucas…well, he chose his partner well. Marc made a killing on the trading floors, and as we sat there across from one another he flashed his killer smile at me.
It was the two of them, Lucas and Marc, that brought us all back together for the first time in years. They’d been dating for a couple years before Marc proposed. My brother had called each of us on webcam, he and Marc gushing about their impending nuptials.
Lucas, now, across the table, was still beaming. Marc was everything he’d ever wanted in a man.
Well, almost.
There had been a few…transgressions…on Marc’s part. Like a bull loosed from the pen, he’d gone wild after the engagement, trying on a few last men before he settled down with Lucas. And like a calf on clumsy legs, my brother had followed him, always waiting for him to return, and always forgiving. He’d forgiven a lot, my brother.
But would he forgive the foot under the table rubbing against mine?
I cleared my throat and pushed the last few peas around my plate.
“A toast,” my father said. He raised his glass and we raised ours. “To a lifetime of happiness and joy. To loving one another always. And to fidelity—it’s about time!” He winked exaggeratedly. We laughed, but I noticed my brother shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Had he told Dad about Marc’s affairs? Or was Dad just goofing, recalling a time when my newly-out brother had slept his way through the clubs?
My glass was still half-full of Mom’s strawberry wine, and I drank deeply to honour the toast, nearly choking when Marc’s foot raised the hem of my skirt. I hurriedly set my glass down before I dumped it everywhere and shot a look at my brother’s lover. Marc was smiling at my Dad, thanking him for the kind words. He didn’t let on that anything was up under the table.
I suspected that at least one thing was up, if you catch my drift.
Lucas reached over and grabbed Marc’s hand as Mom spoke about how glad she was that they were getting married. “Committed, I mean…no, wait, that sounds like you’re going to a mental institution…I mean…” We laughed again. It hadn’t been that long ago that Mom had had problems coming to terms with Luke being gay. She’d spent a few years grieving the loss of grandchildren from him. She’d come a long way towards acceptance, though at times like this it was obvious that she was out of her element. It was a sign of her growth when she started getting excited about the commitment ceremony. Lucas was the first of us to get married, and once she got going on the decorations and such there was no stopping her.
I looked at my brother, so full of love, and joy, and I found myself smiling. He was a good guy, and I was truly happy to see him in love.
I looked at my brother, but Marc looked at me. His fingers twined with Lucas’s, but his toes slid up the inside of my thigh. He was deliberate about it; there was no mistake. I clamped my legs shut and shot him a look—What are you DOING?—but he didn’t stop. His other foot found mine and rubbed. When he
swallowed, he swallowed hard.
I shoved back from the table abruptly, my chair scraping the worn linoleum of Mom and Dad’s kitchen. Mom stopped mid-sentence: “Dear, are you alright?” I just nodded and mumbled “Excuse me.”
I fled the room, and hurried down the hall to my old bedroom. Dad used it as an office now, but the decor was untouched. Little pink carousel horses trotted around the tops of the walls. I’d hated them as a teenager, but being back here now they comforted me.
I flung myself into Dad’s creaky desk chair and thought. There had to be some kind of misunderstanding in there. Had it been a joke of some kind? Some kind of test? What on earth was Marc thinking? He was gay. He was marrying my brother. It made no sense at all for him to be flirting with me.
Dad poked his head into the room. “You okay in here?”
“Yeah, Daddy. I’m fine. I just…I needed a minute.”
He perched on the corner of the desk. “Are you having trouble with this whole thing? Your mother wasn’t okay with it at first, either. It’s okay to be uncomfortable, but he’s still your brother and you need to support him.”
“Oh! No! No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just…being back here. It’s been a while since we’ve all been together and I got a little emotional. Nothing to worry about.” I stood and gave him a hug, breathing in the spicy smell of his tobacco. “Thanks for checking on me, though.”
He squeezed me back. “You bet, sweetheart. You take a minute, if you need it, but come back soon. Your mother is putting us all to work after dinner making a billion little paper flowers. And if I have to suffer, you have to, too.”
He left me to join the chaos unfolding in the kitchen, and I took a deep breath and followed.
My sisters had cleared away the dishes and Mom was spreading craft supplies all over the table. “It’s a neat little trick I saw on the Internet,” Mom said. “All you need are coffee filters and glue.”
Lucas was beaming. He’d always been a Mama’s boy, and having her finally accept his settling down with Marc clearly overjoyed him.
Marc, on the other hand, patted a chair next to him when he saw me. “Shelly, why don’t you come sit with me? I’ll need all the help I can get.”
“Well, Marc,” I said coldly, “get some help from your soon-to-be husband, then.”
I sat far away from him at the table and busied myself cutting and folding what felt like thousands of tiny paper petals. Marc seemed to be the only one who caught my iciness, and for that, at least, I was thankful.
I tried to push it out of my mind as I folded the flowers. And when my sister Jenny brought in some coffee, I was so thankful I almost kissed her.
We stayed up late, trying to get everything ready for the ceremony in the morning, then we all left my parents’ and went back to our hotel. We were staying in separate rooms, excepting Marc and Lucas, of course, but we were all spread along the same hallway. Jenny, ever the responsible one, had found us a group rate.
I let myself into my room, thankful for some peace and quiet at last. Living alone, I was used to solitude, and being in the midst of my family’s antics had worn me out. I locked the door behind me, stripped out of my clothes, and crawled naked between the crisp white sheets. The novel I was reading was beside me on the nightstand, and I picked up where I’d left off. Romans were invading, and the action was good, but I found my mind wandering back to Marc.
It didn’t seem fair. He was so good looking, and in another world I’d have gone after him in a heartbeat. But things don’t always work out the way we expect, and in this world he was gay and in love with my brother.
Maybe not one hundred percent gay, though. I remembered the feel of his foot on mine under the table, the simplest touch but enough to be unforgettable. I thought about his dark brown eyes, about the tiny cleft in his chin. In another world, he would be mine instead of Lucas’s. I liked my men tall, broad, and handsome, and he fit the bill nicely.
I set my book aside, and my hand found its way under the sheets. I touched myself, thinking of the way he’d smelled when I hugged him hello. Thinking of the hard muscles outlined under the sweatshirt he wore. My fingers parted my labia as I imagined what he would look like naked. He’d be rippled, with those abs that cut sharply at the hips, leading the eye down to his dick. He’d be big, I thought, his prick thick and hard. Hard for me.
In my mind, he was straight and lusting for me. I rubbed at my nub, fingers slicked with my wetness, as I thought of him coming to the door, wanting me, taking me here, in this strange room, fucking me until dawn. I pushed aside any thoughts of hurting my brother; in my mind, Marc was hungry for me and me alone.
When I entered myself, I imagined it was his shaft. I added another finger, then another, filling myself up but pretending it was him instead. I spread my legs wider, and fucked myself with both hands: one buried inside me, one rubbing furiously at my swollen clit. I panted, and I moaned, and when I came I grunted like an animal.
When finally I pulled my fingers out of myself, they were wrinkled from my wetness. I flung the covers back and made my way to the bathroom to wash my hands. The bathroom was right beside the door to my room, so when the knock sounded there I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I yelped.
A voice came from outside: “Shelly? Can I come in?”
It was Marc. The real Marc, not the one from my fantasies. What did he want?
A knocking again, softer this time. “Are you still awake?”
Oh God.
I grabbed the fluffy white robe from the back of the bathroom door and wrapped it around myself. I tied it quickly then opened the door.
Marc was standing there in the dimly-lit hallway, and for the first time since I’d known him he looked bashful. Hesitant. It was so completely out of character for him that at first I wondered if something was wrong.
“You’re still going through with it, right?” I blurted, and instantly felt my cheeks turn red. Of all the clumsy things to say…
Marc bit his bottom lip. “That’s the thing, it’s…Listen, can I come in for a bit? I need to talk to you.”
I opened the door wider and stood back to let him pass. Too late, I noticed my bra and panties laying on top of the pile of clothes I’d worn. He looked right at them as he passed, but fortunately for my crushing embarrassment he didn’t say anything.
He sat awkwardly on the end of the bed; it was that or one of a pair of uncomfortable chairs at the small desk. I chose one of these instead. I waited.
“It’s like this,” he began. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry your brother. I do. I really do. It’s just that I…he told you about my…”
“Your affairs? You came to talk about that? It’s late, Marc, and I don’t think I’m the person you want to—”
“You’re exactly the person I need. What he didn’t tell you is that a couple of my… indiscretions… happened with women.” His eyes were on his lap, so he didn’t see my jaw drop. He continued, “I’m gay. Or at least, I thought I was. But there were a couple of times that things got crazy, I’d been drinking, and suddenly I’m going back to her place. I never thought anything would come of it. But once I’d had one woman, I wanted another. Lucas was hardly impressed; that’s why we spent so much time fighting last year.” I nodded. I remembered. He swallowed hard. “I need to know who I am. That’s why I came to you.”
The pieces came together in my mind, but I brushed the thought away. He couldn’t mean…
“I want to sleep with you. I want one last taste of pussy before I settle down with your brother.”
I gasped. “Okay, this is crazy. I don’t know why you’re telling me all this. And I sure as hell don’t know why you’d want to sleep with me, of all people. Couldn’t you sneak off with some random chick from the bar? Like you did before?”
He flinched. “I deserve that, I guess. I came to you because you’re just like him.”
It was true. Lucas and I, closest in birth, looked more like one another t
han anyone. We were the same height; we shared many of our features. People often confused us for twins, though there was a year and a half between us. But why…?
“The only real difference between you is that you’re a woman. I love being with him; if I enjoy being with you, I must enjoy being with women, also. I’m still going to be committed to your brother, but I can’t give him all of myself unless I know myself first.”
I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to hurt Lucas; I didn’t even want to risk it. But if this was the only way Marc could give himself wholly to my brother, I saw no other way. I wanted Lucas to be happy.
I made up my mind: I was going to fuck my brother’s lover.
I didn’t know exactly where to begin, so I untied my robe and let it fall open over the arms of the chair. Marc gasped and froze where he was. Neither of us moved for a moment, a moment which got longer and longer until I started feeling self-conscious. “Is there something wrong?” I looked down at myself: lightly tanned, full high breasts, taut stomach, well-shaped strip of trimmed pubic hair. The tiny beads on my navel ring caught the light, but I didn’t think that was it. “What?”
He was having trouble getting any words out, and when at last he spoke he sounded strangled. “You’re fucking amazing, is what.” He held his hands out to me; I stood and went to him. I left the robe behind.
He touched me so softly it was like a whisper on my skin. His hands glided over my stomach, which was at eye level to his seated position. Slowly, ever so slowly, he leaned forward, warm breath on my belly, and gently kissed the sensitive skin there. I felt the pleasant chill of excitement.
“I’ve thought of you for a while now,” I started to tell him, but he hushed me with a finger to his lips. His hand found mine and he pulled me down to sit beside him. He paused for just a moment then kissed me.
My head spun; I felt like a teenager again. Marc’s lips were softer than those of any man I’d kissed, and his tongue danced expertly with mine. Already my heart was thudding in my chest. He smelled of dark vanilla and his breath tasted like cinnamon. He’s cheating, you know. I shoved the thought to the back of my mind. I was doing the right thing; it was helping my brother…in the long run, anyway. And frankly, with Marc’s tongue in my mouth and his warm hands cradling my breasts, my brother was the last thing I wanted on my mind.
